


Sleeping With the Light On

by Hanaa



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AND EVERYONE IS SAD, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain Swan - Freeform, Divorce, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Slow Burn, bakery au (kind of), ectopic, killian is an idiot, they both work in a bakery now, unhappy marriage (kind of)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-05-21 05:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanaa/pseuds/Hanaa
Summary: The worst part about being abandoned is the wondering. What had she done wrong? Had he cared for her at all? Or was he glad to see the back of her, no longer bound by the law to stay by her side?No, Emma decides. The worst part of abandonment is not being able to ask him those questions herself.Emma Swan had always believed that marrying her Match would be the first step towards a happy ending, and for a while, it was. But then the matching system falls, and her husband leaves without so much as a goodbye, and suddenly, Emma doesn't know anything at all.More tags to come.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Busted song  
> This is my first proper published fic, so reviews welcome! x

It was supposed to be a birthday surprise.

Mr and Mrs Nielsen had promised Emma that if she got full marks in twenty maths tests, she’d get a special present for her birthday. Each day she’d carefully cross off the date on the family calendar, tongue poking out in concentration as she counted down the days.

Emma had been dreaming for weeks of all the places they might take her, the things she might get. She was six— a big girl now, and she’d been extra well behaved so that they’d get her something good.

She hoped it was something she could keep, like the pretty blanket with her name on it, or her favourite tattered copy of _The Princess Bride._ (But deep down all Emma really wanted was a special piece of paper. The paper that would say they wanted her forever).

But that was before the fighting.

Before the whispered fights, and the screaming matches when she was supposed to be asleep. Before plates were broken and rings thrown away. Before Mr Nielsen slammed the door behind him and didn’t come back.

For Emma’s sixth birthday, she didn’t get cake. All she got was a misty eyed foster mother and a scary doctor’s office. _This way you won’t make my mistakes,_ Mrs Nielsen told her, barely looking up from the paperwork as they took her away. _They’ll make sure you’re taken care of._

There were no presents. Instead, there was screaming and kicking; bitten lips and sizzling flesh, and hot iron pressing down into the delicate skin of her wrist.

That afternoon, Emma went back to the group home.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Founded in the aftermath of World War II, The Federation sought to provide certainty in a time when there was none. Citizens were placed in a system that guaranteed them their perfect life partner, and the survival of the quintessential nuclear family unit. However, with the 80's came a more stable population, and signing up to the system no longer became compulsory. Today, very few citizens take part. Despite this, those deemed ‘at risk of destabilising the social order’ can be placed into the system by government officials or parental guardians, thus ensuring the continued prosperity of the United States._

_Those in the system are easily identified by the unique brand on the insides of their wrists in the shape of a laurel wreath. Violating the terms of The Federation is punishable by law and those in the system are forbidden to engage in relationships with those who are not. Citizens are free to make an appeal to the Supreme Court for leaving the Federation, although to date, none have been granted…_

—August W. Booth- _A History of The Federation_

 

***

_January 2018, Boston_

The Nolans last a month before they come to visit Emma. The tell-tale rumble of David’s truck pulling up in the drive gives them away, and Emma barely has a chance to throw a sweater on over His shirt before they make it to the door. Telling them she was _fine_ over the phone was easy when they couldn’t see her- or the pile of tissues and dishes beside her bed. If they knew she wore His shirts...well, she’d be hard pressed not to have David try and hunt Him down.

And really, she was doing _great._

“Hi guys!” Emma flings the door wide open before they can knock, pasting a bright smile on her face and making sure she keeps her eyes fixed on their faces. It’s not difficult with them blinking at her like she’s some kind of alien species. Mary-Margaret looks particularly surprised to see her so chipper, but she recovers quickly and bustles in, dragging David behind her as he greets Emma with a quick hug.

“Tell me again how you’re not a psychic? You _always_ know when we’re here.”

“C’mon David! who needs a sixth sense when you have that truck?” Sticking out her tongue, Emma darts away from under David’s arm as he sputters indignantly at the insult. Weaving through piles half-packed boxes through to the kitchen to start the coffee machine, Emma laughs quietly when she hears Mary-Margaret feeding platitudes to her husbands ego.

This is good, Emma thinks, humming to herself while she prepares the mugs. She can keep things light. Light and breezy, and no one needs to even _mention_ Killian. She falters at the thought—brilliant blue eyes flashing unbidden in her mind— making her gasp aloud and spill sugar over the counter.

“Emma?” Spinning around at the voice, she sees David watching her cautiously from the doorway, a small frown twisting at his lips. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m fine.” Cursing at the way her voice goes shrill, Emma hides her trembling hands behind her back. “I’ve just uh-had a _lot_ of coffee today,” she shrugs, glancing down to avoid his pointed gaze, “you know how jittery it makes me.”

“Mhmm,” David remains unconvinced, but thankfully drops the subject, pushing off from the door and helping her load refreshments onto a tray before following behind her into the living room where Mary-Margaret has already made herself comfortable. Emma tries not to balk when she catches sight of Mary-Margaret; but the way her hand curls protectively over her rounded belly as Emma approaches tells her she failed.

They don’t take long to get to the point.

Once they run out of inane things to chat about, the conversation tapers to a close, filling the room with silence. Mary-Margaret is the first to break it, reaching out tentatively to grasp her hand.

“Emma...Honey...” Looking across at David for affirmation, Mary-Margaret continues. “We want you to come and stay with us for a while- at least until you get back on your feet. We really want to help.”

Emma considers the offer, nibbling quietly on a cookie and regards the two of them carefully. David is sat next to Mary-Margaret, his arm around his wife’s shoulders, she watches as he takes her hand, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. The two of them make such a saccharine-sweet couple that she almost wants to scream. Why couldn’t _she_ have been so lucky? Where did she go so wrong?

“No.” Quashing the guilt that bubbles up in her chest at their distressed expressions, Emma speaks firmly. “I-I won’t go with you…but I’m not staying here either.”

“Don’t worry about me you guys. I mean, I’m uh, I’m putting this place up for rent and then…I don’t know.” she shrugs “I’ll go somewhere. Get away.” David and Mary Margaret exchange a worried glance, and Emma huffs quietly, lips pulling down into a grimace.

“It’s _okay_ , you guys, I’m not gonna try and find him.” Blinking back tears, she extricates her hands from Mary Margaret's. “I know Killian never loved me. So what would be the point?”

 

***

_July 2016_

_They got married on a Friday. Killian, still grieving, didn’t even bother looking at his bride as he lifted the veil, barely registering the flicker of hurt that crossed her face before they faced the priest. The law could make him marry this woman, but it couldn’t make him love her. Not when his heart belonged elsewhere._

_His heart ached at the memory. Only a week before, they’d made him watch as his Milah had wed another, her tearful eyes catching his from where he stood in the back, even as she pledged commitment to the man that should have been him._

_Of course, Killian had known the risks of dallying with a Matched woman, but he hadn’t quite anticipated the pain that would come from losing her. Most nights he’d lie awake, wishing he could just tear out his heart and crush it, if only it would bring an end to the pain._

_Polite applause from the congregation bought him back to the church, and Killian held out his arm for his new wife, looking down for the first time at her surprisingly strong grip. She was a beautiful woman- of that there was no doubt. Blonde curls cascaded over her shoulder and her sparkling green eyes rimmed in black, observed him carefully._

_The service was remarkably short, and before he knew it, they were stepping out for photos- the photographer Federation approved, of course. Resisting the urge to scowl, Killian stretched his lips in the approximation of a smile, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt._

_He wondered what Milah was doing. Was her husband kind? Did he keep her happy? What he wouldn’t give to be by her side today…his increasingly desperate thoughts of Milah were interrupted by a nudge in his elbow as Emma pointed something out with a giggle. The Federation officer sent to observe the wedding was falling asleep where he stood, his toupee sliding forward over his face._

_“Five dollars says it falls off and he leaves without it”_

_Killian couldn’t help it. He laughed._

***

 _December 2017_ , _San Francisco_

Milah opens the door and it’s like he’s twenty years old again. She stands radiant, hair thrown over her shoulder in a messy braid, deep scowl giving way to an astonished grin as she recognises him. it’s been a while, he supposes. And he’s grown a beard.

“Milah.” Her name leaves his lips like a whisper, and he finds his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she launches herself at him, laughing joyously in his ear. The embrace is familiar, but his heart doesn’t beat faster when he has her in his arms, nor does he bury his face in her hair like he once used to.

He can’t quite tell if that’s a relief or not.

Her house is just as he imagined it. Framed pictures of Milah and Owen adorn the hallway, showcasing the life of a beautiful, happy young couple.

“You know, when I first got the letter, I thought it was another scam- you know the ones I mean,” Milah calls behind her as she leads him through the house. “But then so many people started getting divorced that the courthouse shut for a week just to process! Really makes you doubt the accuracy of the Federation, doesn’t it?”

It’s only as he gets to the end of the hallway that Killian sees the baby; stopping short to stare at the picture in surprise. Milah- smiling tiredly, Owen by her side. Her husband grinning from ear to ear as he points at the child swaddled in his wife's arms.

“His name is Liam.” Milah’s voice is soft, as she comes to stand beside him, gazing at her little family, a tender smile on her face. Killian is so distracted by how content she looks that it takes a moment for her words to register.

“Liam? You named your boy _Liam?_ ” Killian barely manages to choke out the question. He stares, transfixed at the picture, bringing up a hand to trace the child’s face. He can hear his older brother behind him already, crowing about the news to all that would listen. Liam probably would have taken the kid out every weekend too, in an attempt to mould the boy in his own image.

“I promised, didn’t I? My only hope is that he’ll live up to his namesake.”

“Aye, with you as a mother.” Forcing himself to turn away, Killian grins down at Milah. “How could he not?”

Killian was reminded again that before they were lovers, they had been friends. Best friends, in fact. That had been what made it so easy to fall in love. They had been young and reckless, their every kiss tinged with the adrenaline that came with knowing they’d broken the law. Emma had steadied him, in that regard, showing Killian the beauty of the smaller, simpler acts in life. That he didn’t need to run all the time. The satisfaction that came from cooking a nice meal together; relaxing with a book after a long day at work, even just hosting people in the evening.

His stomach twists at the memory, mind going back to the disastrous dinner party they’d held several months before. He’d never seen so much blood in his life.

“Killian?” Milah sounds concerned. “What’s the matter, darling?”

Shaking his head clear, Killian follows Milah through to the kitchen, dragging out a chair and sitting down heavily. He waits for her to take a seat across from him before speaking.

“You really got lucky, you know” he gestures around the kitchen around them, filled with mismatched crockery and brightly coloured cupboards “I’m happy for you, Milah-hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me!”

Milah just laughs “seriously? We don’t see each other in two years and all you say is ‘I’m happy for you’? I know we may not be a couple anymore, but I can still read you like a book”

Killian doesn’t respond, simply scowling across the table at her as he runs his fingers over the woodgrain. Once Milah rises to put the kettle on, he speaks.

“You know, I used to dream about you”

Milah glances away from the stove, eyebrow raised in amusement “ _used_ to?”

“Well it’s not like i had any new material to dream about, did i?” ducking his head reflexively, Killian narrowly dodges Milah’s dish towel

“The first night i dreamt of blonde instead of brown, I avoided Emma for a week” He can feel the tips of his ears turning pink at the admission, and this time he lets her cuff him round the head as she passes behind him.

“Killian Jones, please tell me you did _not_ do that!”

He shrugs “I felt guilty, didn’t I? but you know what’s worse? Not even two weeks later I almost lost Emma too”

He can feel his eyes getting wet already, recalling the glazed way Emma had looked at him when he broke down the door, her shirt soaked through with blood. He’d never driven so fast in his life. All the guests had quietened in shock as he carried Emma down the stairs, her head lolling lifelessly over his arm, his own hands covered in her blood.

“What happened?” Milah places his tea down loudly, jerking him out of the reverie. She looks at him the way she used to look at a particularly difficult sudoku puzzle, and he wants to tell her that his life is far more difficult than numbers ever would be. Instead, he looks away, eyes searching out an ultrasound photo on the fridge.

“It was ectopic” he barely hears Milah’s soft exhalation of breath, getting up for a closer look at the grainy picture. “nine weeks. Emma had lost so much blood by the time I found her that the doctors said it was a miracle she’d survived at all”

“When I saw her lying there…” Killians voice cracks “I couldn’t-I couldn’t” he swallows “it was the first moment I realised I couldn’t live without her” Milah looked stricken, eyes wide as she watched him move around her kitchen before suddenly spinning on his heel and facing her. Killian drags his hand down over his face before addressing her, his shoulders seeming to sag under a heavy weight.

“Milah, I-” he starts “before moving on, I just…I just needed to see you. I need that closure we didn’t have”

“Oh, Killian” Milah laughs quietly to herself “oh, my darling. We can’t let the ‘what if’s’ of our past stop us from living now. I’ve moved on, Killian, it’s time for you to do the same”.

***

_December 2017, Boston_

Emma stands in front of the mirror, shirt pulled up to her chest as she examines her scars. A Laparoscopy was only supposed to leave two small scars, but she had been unlucky (as usual). They weren’t particularly ugly, but she couldn’t ignore the way they marred her skin, a permanent reminder of how her own body had failed her.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, Emma flops back onto her bed, pressing the heels of her hands onto her eyes as though that would stop the traitorous thoughts. It had been seven months and yet she still couldn’t get it out of her head. The doctors had said there was nothing to be done, that it was completely coincidental, but they hadn’t felt the flutter of life. _They_ hadn’t begun to think about nurseries and toys and _family_. All they dealt with was facts. Cold, hard, facts with no room for love.

Killian had promised her that everything would be fine. He had grasped her hand between his, kissing her fingers as he told her that all he cared about was her. That she had made it through and nothing else mattered. But where was he now?

***

_May 2017, Boston_

_Emma excused herself with a smile, squeezing Killian's hand as she slipped past him up the stairs. The dull throbbing across her abdomen was getting worse, and she sat down heavily on the bed, head bowed while she exhaled slowly through the pain._

_The heat was stifling, and Emma could feel beads of sweat forming across her brow as she struggled to breathe._ _She needed to splash her face with water. Stumbling into the bathroom, Emma stopped short at the sight of herself in the mirror. The makeup she had so painstakingly applied did nothing to conceal how all the blood had leached from her face; the rouge on her cheeks looking almost clownish against her pallid skin. Swaying dizzily on the spot, Emma snapped out of her trance when a particularly loud laugh came from downstairs._

_Right, of course— the party. She just needed painkillers, and maybe a touch up…could she blame a mascara wand for her eyes? Where were those damn painkillers? Grasping the sink with one hand, Emma rummaged in the cupboard, knocking over several bottles of face wash in her search for the tell-tale box of tylenol. She knew it was in there somewhere…_

_Aha! Grasping the box in her hand, Emma teetered back as bile rose in her throat. White hot agony lacerated through her stomach and her legs buckled underneath her. Struggling to stay upright, Emma slid down against the door, hissing between her teeth in an attempt not to cry out at the pain._

_She didn’t know how long she sat there, trying to catch her breath. Minutes? Hours? How could she tell? After an eternity, Emma looked down, blinking blearily at the blood that had seeped through her dress._

_That was gonna be a bitch to clean._

_Gritting her teeth, Emma clutched the door handle, as she tried to pull herself up, barely managing to get on her knees before collapsing to the floor on her back. Black spots danced in front of her vision as she stared up at the ceiling swimming in and out of focus._

_“Swan?” Killian's voice called as if from a distance, distorted by the dull roaring in her ears. “Is everything okay?”._

_Slowly turning her head to face the door, Emma opened her mouth to respond but all she managed was a barely audible gurgle as something warm trickled down her chin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried not to think about what that might be, focusing instead on trying to speak._

_“You haven’t fallen down the toilet, have you?” Laughing quietly, Killian rapped on the door to get her attention. “Just...hurry it up, all right? People are starting to wonder where you’ve disappeared to.”_

_He was leaving. He couldn’t go-not yet. Not when he was so near. She had to stop him. Panic bubbled up in her chest, and Emma let out a strangled cry, moving her hand infinitesimally to thump on the door urgently from her place on the floor. She heard his footsteps pause, and then…_

_“Swan?” Killian sounded concerned now, waiting expectantly for her to speak. She had perhaps moments before he left again for who knew how long. Raising her head, she licked her lips, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling in her mouth. Emma almost wept in frustration when her reply was drowned out by a surge in the music downstairs, collapsing back to the floor from the strain of keeping her head up._

_“OI! Turn it down!” Killian hollered down at the guests, but she barely heard him. She barely even heard the shriek that ripped from her own throat—another wave of roiling fire spreading through her stomach. Neither did she hear the sudden silence in which her scream echoed, or Killian's shoulder hitting the door as he tried to break it down._

_The last thing Emma saw before succumbing to darkness was wide blue eyes filled with fear._

 

***

_January 2018, Boston_

As it turned out, January isn’t the best time to travel.

Tapping her foot impatiently, Emma cranes her neck to see ahead in the line, narrowly avoiding being shoved back into the trolley stacked with suitcases behind her. The amount of people coming back from Christmas break was ridiculous, and wholly inconvenient. Why did so many people need to visit their families anyway? Emma had none and _she_ did just fine on her own.

She had had a plan and everything, but what was it they said about best laid plans? Something about going awry, anyway, and it seemed her day was meant to be just that. The new tenants had lost their keys, so she’d had to wait around and give them _her_ spare, so instead of arriving early, Emma had made her way into the airport just as the departures rush began. 

Lovely.

Catching a glimpse of a tall, dark haired man, Emma quickly looks down, pretending to examine her watch as he passes her by. She’d already embarrassed herself by grabbing a poor man she’d mistook for Killian, she didn’t need to do that again. Emma needed to accept that Killian would never come back to her, but it was difficult when she saw him in every crowd. A blue-eyed man there, a British accent there…it was a wonder she hadn’t gone insane. More insane than renting out her house and moving to a different state, of course.

There would be no Killians in Tallahassee, and as far as Emma was concerned, that was the best part about the place.

 

***

Turning the key in the lock, Killian opens the front door slowly, wincing at the screech of the hinges. Emma had always preferred to let him oil the doors.

He’s just bringing in his suitcase when a prickling sensation on the back of his neck tells him he’s being watched. Emma must be home then, though he could have _sworn_ she worked Tuesdays. Turning to greet her, Killian stops short at the sight of two women who are decidedly _not_ his wife.

They regard each other silently for a minute, Killian letting the door slam shut behind him before jabbing a finger at the tallest of the two.

“Who the bloody hell are you _?_ ”

The woman glares at him, hands on hips as she steps in front of her companion protectively. “We _live_ here. Who the fuck are you?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long, long wait. Uni has been kicking my arse

_January 2019, Storybrooke_

Wiping her forehead absentmindedly, Emma continues frosting the last of the cupcakes. The kitchen is empty this early but that’s exactly how she prefers it. No distractions, no noise, just silence and a steady hand as she puts the finishing touches on each order. Early mornings are when she does her best work, and Granny had been happy enough to give her a key.

Speaking of early mornings…Emma glances at the clock, frowning as she notes the time. The new delivery driver is cutting it way too close for a first day. There’s a huge order that needs to go out in time for a party and if he’s not here soon he’ll get stuck in the school rush. She just hopes the guy has a reliable GPS, because he’ll need the shortcuts when she’s done briefing him.

Right on cue, a sharp knock sounds on the delivery entrance and she straightens up, smoothing down her apron before going to open it.

Granny had scandalised Emma when she mentioned the new guy after interviews, ‘ _now_ that _boy is a fine piece of cake if I do say so myself’_. Emma laughs under her breath at the memory of Granny’s salacious grin as she nudged her, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious—even if the thought of a new relationship makes her queasy, there’s no harm in _looking_.

Unfortunately for Emma, she barely catches a glimpse of the guy before two of the oven timers go off behind her, shrieking loudly in the silence, and she whips around, missing the shocked expression of the man in the door.

“ _Shit_ , shit” she rushes for the souffles first and gestures for the guy to come in “um, the cupcakes are right there-they need to be delivered first and everything else is in the blast chiller with labels, so it should be easy you’ll just have to leave like... _now_ to miss the traffic”

“Swan?” the voice is incredulous and unmistakably, painfully familiar. Emma freezes, heart leaping into her throat _no, please no it can’t be._ Rising up slowly from her position behind the counter, Emma can’t help the whimper that escapes her mouth, eyes locking with blue eyes so recognisable they may as well be her own.

Killian is still stood in the doorway, staring at her like he’s never seen her before. He steps forward, mouth opening as though to say something, but she can’t do it.

She can’t do this.

Holding up her hands, Emma shakes her head, cursing herself for the tears that well up in her eyes as she backs away. Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, Emma turns on her heel and walks away.

***

_December 2017, Boston_

 

_Emma jerked awake, hand slamming down on her phone to shut it up. Rising from her awkward position on the couch, she squinted in the morning light, eyes straying involuntarily to the door. Nothing had moved._

_Her popcorn and milk duds combination sat congealing in its bowl, untouched from the night before. She’d planned to have a movie night with Killian, but Emma had found her appetite shrinking with every hour that passed without any sign of him, until eventually she must have dropped off— too exhausted to wait._

_Her phone pinged with a notification and Emma grabbed it, quashing down her negative thoughts, a smile already tugging at her lips in anticipation of Killian’s apology. He’d probably been held up at the work conference, would tease her with_ a you know how bad I am at charging my phone _. Maybe he’d even throw in a promise to make it up to her later. (Those were her favourite)._

_Instead, it is the final Federation message she will receive, simply confirming what she’d heard on TV the night before._

In response to government budget cuts, The Federation has failed to secure the appropriate funding and is shutting down effective immediately. All marriage contracts filed with The Federation are no longer legally binding and can be terminated through any court of law if and when participants desire. A televised press conference will be held later today with CEO Fiona Black in order to discuss the matter further.

 _Dread pooled in Emma’s stomach, but she supressed it, ignoring the terrible suspicion forming in her mind. He wouldn’t…not after everything…not_ now. _If the news last night was anything to go by, the trains probably weren’t running in the chaos._ Then why didn’t he phone to tell you that? _she quashed the traitorous whisper in her head, biting her lip doubtfully. What if he really has left her? Now that there’s no legal reason for them to stay together…she stares down at the wedding band on her finger, remembering his preoccupation with the other woman-Milah- at their wedding. But he was over her right? Or had he just pretended because he didn’t see a way out and wanted to make the best of a bad situation?_

 _“No!” Emma exclaimed aloud, snapping herself out of her spiralling thoughts. Things might have been strained at the beginning, but they were a proper couple, who loved each other. She ignored the voice in her head telling her the Nielsen’s had ‘loved’ each other too._ And see how _that_ turned out? _the brand on her wrist a constant reminder._

_No._

_This whole Federation thing was just messing with her, and by the time she sat down for breakfast Killian would get home and try to sneak half her food as if she wouldn't notice._

_He’d be back in a couple of hours most likely. Maybe she would make his favourite muffins while she waits._

_There’s no need to worry. Everything’s fine._

_(She can’t stop staring at the door)_

_***_

 

It’s been two weeks, and Killian hasn’t seen Emma since his first day. Emma isn’t one to miss work and it looks like she’s using all her vacation days at once just to avoid him.

He can’t say that he blames her.

Every morning, he comes in for work, and every morning he is greeted by Granny waiting for him with a list of deliveries. He hasn’t told her about Emma but if her sympathetic smile whenever she sees him is any indication, she’s figured it out.

Ruby and Belle had been kind enough to fill him in when he’d walked through the front door a year ago, leading him to the new shed in the yard where Emma had neatly packed away all his things. She was leaving town, they said, he must have just missed her at the airport.

He’d thanked them for their generosity, and then gone out to the nearest bar to get blackout drunk. Killian spent the next month in a similar state, cursing himself for his stupidity, for becoming so self-absorbed that he completely forgot about how Emma would take his sudden disappearance. He hadn’t been thinking at all, Killian reflects bitterly. He’d become so accustomed to their brand of domesticity that he hadn’t thought anything could destroy it, let alone _himself_.

It was this same arrogance that had ended his relationship with Milah, but by _god_ , he was going to fight for his love this time.

Except Emma didn’t want to be found.

It didn’t matter where she went, he couldn’t find her. She’d shut down all her social media accounts, got a new phone number, and completely wiped everything from their life together. She was the bail bondsperson, not him, and every time he thought he got his chance, it was too late. She’d moved on.

Until now.

Killian hadn’t even been looking this time, truly. It had been a year and he was ready to throw in the towel, to admit his failure. But it looked like the universe took pity once in a while.

He’s so engrossed in his thoughts that it takes him a second to realise Granny isn’t waiting for him outside. That’s odd. Usually she’s there at seven thirty on the dot. Making his way inside, Killian stops short. Emma.

 _Emma_ is stood kneading dough at the counter. She doesn’t look up at his approach, simply continues to knead violently, slapping the dough hard on the table, and he tries not to wince. Killian opens his mouth to speak but before he can, Emma’s pointing to a crate on the table next to him.

“Mayor Mills needs those by 8. Tell her I decided devil’s food cake was appropriate for the occasion” her voice is quiet, and still she doesn’t look up at him, but her words send a thrill through him, nonetheless.

“Yes, ma’am” he murmurs, picking up the crate full of cake boxes. Devil’s food cake, he smiles. That was the cake Emma chose for their wedding. “Is this for a wedding reception?” he can’t help but ask, turning to Emma expectantly.

She finally looks up then, meeting his eyes across the room. He’s not sure but he thinks she’s smirking, just a little.

“Actually, the mayor is celebrating her annulment.”

Ah.

***

Emma doesn’t let herself relax until she hears the van in the distance and releases the tension in her shoulders. That was harder than it should have been.

And yet...wiping that smile off Killian’s face had felt so satisfying. Smug bastard.

“Want me to fire him?” Granny’s stern voice makes her jump, as her boss comes to stand beside her, grabbing the dough from her and dividing it methodically into quarters. “He’s a good driver but you’re the best baker we’ve got. I know which loss would be worse for business”

Emma pretends to consider it, laughing under her breath while she puts the dough away to prove. “Nobody’s getting fired, Granny. We’re both fully capable of working together, and I won’t take any more days off, all right?”

Granny nods relieved, clapping Emma firmly on the back, “good. But remember, you know the combination to my safe if you ever need the crossbow”

“I’ll keep that in mind”

***

By the time Killian comes back for the next round of deliveries, the kitchen has filled up with the rest of the staff, and she’s working on so many orders she barely has time to stop and hand him the list, giving it to one of the part time assistants to pass on instead. She still watches out of the corner of her eye, admiring the way his biceps flex while he lifts the cakes, but she doesn’t dare turn her head, acutely aware of Killians eyes on her.

That’s how she spots it. Emma almost drops a tray of cookies, gasping aloud when she sees the glint of his wedding band in the sun. The clatter of the tray barely makes a dent in the noise of the kitchen, but Killian turns to look at her anyway, regarding her intensely across the room. She ducks her head down, cheeks burning as she hides amongst the other bakers.

How dare he? How _dare_ he wear that ring when he threw away everything that it represented? Anger bubbles up in her, white hot and blazing in her chest.

This can’t go on. She can’t. She can’t be reminded of their failure to make it every time she sees him.

The ring has to go.

Emma goes straight down to the courthouse after work before she can talk herself out of it.

She paces back and forth, worrying her lip as she waits for them to draw up Federation papers. This, at least an advantage of that stupid brand on her wrist. All divorce papers for Federation victims are the same, and she doesn’t give herself a chance to second guess herself, signing the papers as soon as they’re presented to her, still warm from the printer.

Now to get Killian to sign them.

She lies awake all night, tossing and turning trying to forget about the papers in her handbag. She thinks about ripping them up. Of never talking to Killian about the fact that they’re still married and just ignoring him. He would never have to know. But then every time she closes her eyes, she sees Killian staring at her in concern, as if he has _any_ right, and suppresses the urge to find him and make him sign them at- she glances at the clock- three in the morning.

It’s useless. After another hour of no sleep, Emma gives up. She has to be at Granny’s in two hours and there’s no way she’s getting any sleep _now_. Might as well practise some of the recipes she wants to add to the menu.

She makes blueberry muffins. (Killian’s favourite).

***

Emma is waiting for him the next morning. Killian tries not to let his delight show, but his smile dampens when she grimaces and avoids his gaze.

“Killian...” she begins, picking at her fingers anxiously “we need to talk. About us”

 _Finally_ , Killian grins in relief, finally, he can sort things out. He practically falls over his own feet in his rush to take a seat across from her “aye love, I think so too”

“Really?” Emma looks surprised, and...disappointed? “well. Um.  You never waited to finalise everything last year, so I figured I’d do it for you” she slides a plastic folder towards him, watching as he takes out the papers, realisation dawning as he reads them.

A divorce? Is this really what it’s come to- Emma barely able to look him in the eye as their lives fall apart around them?

“Don’t worry. I already signed them. I don’t want anything, so you can take whatever you want from the settlement”

He can’t let this happen. Running a hand through his hair, Killian watches as Emma sighs quietly and gets up, moving past him to pass him the days delivery rota “It’s a pretty small day for deliveries so you’ll probably be finished in a couple hours”

“Emma”

“You could even go to the courthouse straight after work with the papers and we’ll be divorced” she snaps her fingers, laughing bitterly “like magic”

“Emma”

“Oh, and I need you to take these samples to the Herman’s.” Emma continues as if she hasn’t heard him, “Ashley still hasn’t decided on a baby shower cake so I put together some stuff she might like”

“Swan!” the name bursts out from him, echoing in the silent kitchen and Emma flinches, eyes skittering over to him and away again before she turns around.

“What do you want, Killian” she sounds tired and he swallows before reaching for her hand. He counts it as a victory that she even lets him hold her.

“I want us to try again...as friends, bloody hell, even _co-workers_ if nothing else.” he rises up from his seat, coming to stand behind her, grasping her hand like it’s a raft and he’s drowning.

 _I am drowning_ , he thinks _drowning in a life without Swan_. “Please, Emma, don’t shut me out. I never meant for this to happen”

Emma whips around, glaring up at him through red rimmed eyes she shoves her finger into his chest, making him stumble back a step “But it _did_ , Killian, and you can’t change it. _You_ left me, _you_ left, and didn't give a single shit about how I'd feel and now?” she chokes back a sob “it’s too late.”

Her words hit him like a blow to the stomach and he scrabbles for the chair behind him, falling into it heavily. “Emma, I _love you._ It’s _you,_ it will always be _you!”_ he’s losing her, he can tell. They’re both openly crying now, Emma standing over him as he pleads for her, burying his face in his hands. 

She grabs him by the shoulders, pulling him up and cupping his face gently, wiping away his tears even as they continue to flow over her hands.

“Don’t make this harder than it is, Killian. Maybe six months ago I would have believed you but…” Emma leans up, pressing her lips to his in a kiss, her breath catching when he slants his mouth over hers, pulling her closer as she threads her hands through his hair. All too soon she pulls away, resting her forehead against his as their tears mingle together.

How many times had they stared at each other like this in the past? How many times had he taken for granted Emma’s smiles, her kisses, her love?

“I can’t...I can’t let myself be wrong about you. Not again.” she whispers against his lips, kissing him again, chastely before pulling away with a smile that shatters his heart.

“I can’t go through that again, Killian. It will _break me_ ”

He doesn’t stop her when she leaves; and that’s how Granny finds him later, staring numbly at the door where she didn’t look back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested, the scene I imagined at the end kind of goes like the first minute or so of this video: [Layi Vi Na Gayi](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLNQP2HxQoE)


End file.
